Finding Salvation
by Just Kiga
Summary: A year ago, vampires came out of the coffin. Godric is trying to promote progressive thinking among the supernaturals, as well as find some type of meaning in life. Jane Ava Doe interrupts his life and his campaign. Is she helping, or is her presence just destroying his hope for peace between races? Now, his past seems to be set on taking away his happiness, too. GodricXOC
1. Brielle's Grandfather not an update

Hi, all. This is my first story... It's Godric X OC. I hope you enjoy it.

Sorry if any follows get an "update." I had to add in page dividers. I didn't notice they weren't on here when I copied it from word.

**Disclaimer: Anything recognizable does NOT belong to me!**

* * *

[Jane Ava Doe]

"Will you marry me?" Mr. Reynold asked me, his wrinkly hands clutching mine. He felt a slight desperation and loneliness. Most of the elderly here felt like this.

"Sure," I smile at him, pulling my hand from his and putting down The Selection on his bedside table. His granddaughter had bought him the book a few years back, but then, she and her parents died in an airplane crash three years ago. Mr. Reynold is a sickly, eighty-nine-year-old man with sun aged skin sagging off of his withering body. He is sweet in an annoying sort of way, and he will not remember asking me to marry him or beginning the book from his grandchild.

"When?" he asks me, leaning back in his bed. It felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

It's tiring, really: Having to repeat just about the same thing with him every time I visit him. I tuck him in and turn off the bedside lamp, "Next week, I will marry you then."

I leave the room, picking up the mail I left in his file holder on his door as I close it. I volunteer here at Glenn Oaks Resting Home. I started when I was fourteen; I'm seventeen now. I took in two letters to Mrs. Rigenski, who will talk until your ears bleed if you let her. She is the last person in the hall and surprisingly mobile and energetic.

"Good afternoon, I have letters," I wave them at her.

She always gets overly excited about them, and I suppose I would, too. After a few years, the kin of the elderly often stop visiting, calling, and writing so much, but her nephew writes to her often and calls at least once a month.

I sit with her and read them to her. One is from her great niece, detailed with child drawings and the other is from her nephew, talking to her about the family. She sits there happy, looking at the pictures that were drawn for her. I take this time to leave; she will have to take her medicine soon anyway.

I take a turn into the critical ward section and say, "Hi," to Alex, a nurse and walk down to the cold room. I unlock the door and go straight to the refrigerator. I take a bag of AB+ out and stash it in my bag. I'm supposed to take inventory, but there is supposed to be a delivery tonight. There really isn't a point to do it yet. I leave, locking the door behind me.

* * *

I wait impatiently for dusk, for Gabrielle to finally wake. I start tapping on her hidden coffin and humming a nursery rhyme to myself.

"The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, the worms crawl in and out Brielle's mouth," I giggle, finding this fitting since she _is_ technically dead.

"You know your singing is absolutely awful, even through steel," I hear Brielle's muffled voice, and the coffin popped up, letting out a pressurized sound, like when you first open a bottle of soda.

My jaw drops open, acting offended, "Does not!"

"And why, might I ask," she props herself up in her coffin, her beautiful red hair not even frizzy from her sleep, "Would you sing that song in particular? You _know_ I hate bugs!"

"You hate bugs... You're dead!" I say poking her in the shoulder, "Do you not see the irony in that?"

Brielle slaps my hand away and stretches, ignoring my retort, "So did you get my blood?"

"Your favorite, it's already in the microwave, waiting to be heated up," I tell her.

Brielle plops out of her coffin and presses the button for it to return to the ground. She glides past me in a hurried blur, and I realize she must be starving.

As I hear the microwave going, my own hunger took over, "Hey, mom, what's for supper?"

Brielle pulls her hair to one side as she turns to look at me, "What do you have in mind?"

I smile and say playfully, "Pizza!"

She gives a disgusted look but still throws me the phone, "Call and order whatever you like," she pauses to grab a covered glass with a straw, "Besides those fish sticks. It's like death, itself walked in."

I grin and order a cheese pizza and some lava cakes from Domino's.

Brielle turns her back toward me, so I won't see her pouring the blood into her cup. She turns back toward me, already taking soft sips through the straw.

She placed a twenty on the counter, "This should cover it, right?"

I nod slightly, still humming the nursery rhyme that she hates. I tilt my head curiously, "Hey, why does human food smell nasty to vampires?"

Brielle raises an eyebrow at my random question, "I don't know really." She looks puzzled for a moment and then, smirks, "Why do humans like fast food?"

I give her a dubious look, "Because it's _fast_, and it tastes good, obviously."

"Well, as long as it makes you happy, Jane-darling," she chuckles softly.

Still sipping on her blood, Brielle moves over to the couch and sits down. I can't help but join her. I snatch the remote up as she sips her blood, so I won't get stuck watching the history channel.

She actually looks rather into the blood. I bet she hasn't even gone out to feed in a while, and we're out of TruBlood. She just waits for me to go volunteer and bam, free blood.

'Lazy mom, doesn't even want to go out to get her own meal,' I think. I start glaring at her, and she turns to stare at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Vad?" she asks with a slight accent.

"Huh?" I feel my eyebrow twitch.

Brielle laughs, "'Vad' is Swedish for 'What?'"

"Do I look like a Swedish meatball to you?" I snap playfully.

She hisses, "No, an over grown chicken is more like it."

I open my mouth to say something smart, but the doorbell rings. I jump up and glare at her, stomping towards the front door mumbling about old hags. Brielle just simply laughs, "Saved by the bell."

When I return, she's in the kitchen with the refrigerator door open, "Uhm, we have a problem."

"What's that?" I ask as my eyes shoot daggers at her back. I already know this will annoy me.

She turns to me, "We don't have any drinks left, for you or me."

"You just had blood!" I reply, "You're stomach's a freaking black hole of doom!"

She shrugs, "I'm still hungry."

I sit my dinner on the counter, and I swoop my hand at the door, "Well, go to the store and get some."

"It's your turn," Brielle protests.

"But, you are faster," I whine.

"You need the exercise," she adds.

I consciously look over my body, "Did you just call me fat?"

"No, I never gain weight, but you do. I was just thinking of your well-being, darling," Brielle says in defense.

I sigh and grab my bag, "I won't be long."

"Take the pepper spray," she yells as I walk out the door.

I laugh to myself, "Well, at least she cares. That's more than some human parents do."

* * *

I walk to the checkout line, my basket in hand, humming the nursery rhyme and longing for my pizza. It would probably be cold by time I get home.

"I'm sorry," the teen cashier said, arrogance and disgust rolling off of his being like waves, "We don't sell to vampires."

"According to the VR, it is considered a violation to our rights to discriminate against our species," a boy with light brown hair said calmly.

"You don't have any rights," the cashier said snidely, pushing the TruBlood case away from him as though it were offensive, "You aren't even human."

The boy stared at him for a moment, and I actually thought he was about to glamour the cashier until he finally spoke, "If you do not sell to vampires, then, why do you stock TruBlood?"

Resentment and hate overtook his disgust, and he shoved the TruBlood off of the counter on impulse. The glass bottles shatter against the tile floor, and the synthetic blood splatters all over both the vampire's and my jeans.

Brielle just bought me these.

I set the basket down harder than necessary on the black conveyor belt. I pull out the case of Sundrop and the case of AB+ TruBlood, slamming it down on the counter in front of the cashier. I felt both of their eyes turn toward me.

"Now, look. I don't know why you feel the need to be such a dogmatist asshole, and I don't care. My mom is good friends with Mr. Adams, your boss, and seeing as she's a vampire, I'm pretty sure he will not be happy with your less than enthusiastic service," I half-snarl at him.

The cashier looked at me, gauging my sincerity, a tinge of fear in his emotions, "I think you're nothing but a liar."

"And I think you're nothing but a narrow-minded nitwit," I retort, my tone becoming condescending, "Either way, I'm not bluffing."

The man's knuckles were clenched so tight they were white as he glared at me, his anger poking at me in spikes.

I took his lack of a response as a silent, 'Fuck you.'

"And on top of all of this, you _ruined my favorite pair of jeans_. So unless you want my mom to talk to your boss about your racist behavior, you are going to go get this man another case of TruBlood and check us both out, _now_," I told him.

He stood there looking at me with anger, so I said, "Well? What are you waiting for? Christmas?" I continued to look at him then shrugged, pulling out my cell phone, and dramatically leaned toward him, looking at his name tag, "Alright then, _Joey_, I'll just call Mr. Adams and my mom right now."

A spike of fear emitted from the cashier, "No. Fine."

He turned and walked away from us, and I crossed my arms and waited.

"I will compensate you for your pants," the boy vampire tells me, turning toward me, "I would like to thank you for your progressive thinking. It seems not everyone has the ability to overcome long time prejudices."

"To be fair, most people who are as close-minded as him are either ignorant or have had some sort of bad experience with your kind," I reply, "But it's only been a year, so distrust is natural, Mr...?"

His chocolate brown eyes find my green ones, "Godric."

"Godric," I repeat softly, "Granted, the experiences I have had with vampires have always been good. I have no reason to be hateful toward you."

"Your mother? She was turned?" he inquires.

I blink in surprise, "Uhm, no. She's my adoptive mother; my biological parents died when I was younger."

"I apologize," he averts his eyes, focusing on something on the cashier counter.

The cashier came back and begins to ring up Godric's TruBlood. I looked at the price and raised my eyebrows.

"Either your cash register is broken or you're mistaken," I said harshly.

The cashier gave me a dirty look, "Excuse me?"

"Considering your poor service and destruction of your customers' property, I believe you're charging him double the price you should be," I say with finality.

He sets me with a glare, and I purse my lips, glaring back. If looks could kill, we would both be six feet under.

"Whatever," he says, muttering under his breath, "Fucking bitch."

"It's fine," the vampire boy says, paying the cashier the full price, "Thank you." He turns toward me, "And thank you, Miss...?"

"Jane," I reply as Joey-the-Jerk-Cashier rings up my purchases, "Nice to meet you."

The brunette nods, turning and walking away.

The cashier practically shoves my bag at me after I pay him, resentment and anger pushed toward me as well.

"And for that," I grit my teeth angrily, "I may just call Mr. Adams anyway."

With that, I walked away from him and his hateful energy. I shiver, trying to cleanse my aura of his hate.

* * *

[Gabrielle Janiya Barrios]

My eyes are fixed on the television when I feel a soft vibrate on my buttocks. I sit there for a short second, wondering what it could be before pulling out the annoying talking device. I quickly open it to see a text message from Jane-Darling: I'm walking home now. I won't be long. I smile and start to press the buttons. A page pops up and I take a second to figure out how to write a message. K. I will warm up your pizza for you. Love Mom. It pops up that the message is sent, but I must have hit another button because the electronic device begins to talk to me. I just turn it off and back on.

I stare at it and start browsing through its functions and settings, experimenting with it and changing things to my liking. Finally, I put it back in my pocket and get up to heat up Jane's now-cold greasy sustenance.

I place several slices of the disgusting human food into the microwave and type in thirty seconds. I wait until I hear the door open to press the start button.

Jane shuts the door harder than usual, and the sickly sweet aroma of synthetic blood hits my nose. I walk to the living room just in time to see Jane toss her purse carelessly onto the couch. The bottom half of her new blue jeans look as though they went under a sprinkler of blood and my nose tells me it is synthetic. At least she isn't hurt.

"Why do you have synthetic AB _negative_ blood on your jeans?" I ask curiously.

Jane glances at her pants and then focuses her eyes on mine, "I just remembered why I don't like people."

"Hmm, did some human fuck with you on the way home?" I ask her, curiosity running through me. I hadn't felt much of anything through our blood bond.

"No," the blonde snaps as she reached the microwave.

I disregard the tone, "Well, spill it. What happened?"

Jane pulls out her pizza, taking a huge bite and sighs as she chews it. When she finishes, she looks back at me, "I was at the store, and I guess Mr. Adams hired a new idiot because I've never seen this guy there before. I was in line when he wouldn't sell this vampire TruBlood. He didn't even have a reason or feel fear or pain or anything."

I watch her as she eats and takes a drink of her soda. I take my TruBlood and put it in the refrigerator. "Well, Mr. Adams went on vacation with his wife, for their thirty-fourth anniversary this week, remember?"

Jane's eyes travel over the kitchen counter as her human mind tries to recall this information.

She shrugs and continues, "Well, he wouldn't sell to the vampire because apparently you guys 'don't have rights.' He literally shoved Godric's TruBlood off of the counter-"

If my face was able to lose its color in skin and get sickly looking, it would probably have done so at the sound of his name coming out of her mouth. There's only one vampire that I have ever known with the name Godric. I stare at her in mute shock and memories of him play out in my mind.

Jane continues obliviously, "and that's why I'm covered in it. It really pissed me off, and I even threatened- Mom, are you alright?"

"Are you _sure_ his name is Godric?" I ask her carefully.

Her face wrinkles with concern and confusion, "Uhm, yea. Why?"

I look at her, "He is my maker's maker."

Jane stares at me, not fully comprehending what I've said, so I let it sink in enough for her human brain to process it. Suddenly, Jane looks up, her jaw dropping, and her bewildered eyes find mine, "Godric's your grandfather?"

**Good/bad? Comments? Should I continue or give up on life?**


	2. Choices

**Hi, I'm back! :) Just so you know I plan to update this story once a week. Usually on Saturday, but tomorrow I will be out of town, so you get it a day early! Yay! **

**I did research for this chapter, as in what's in Dallas. I left urls next to the things Jane sees, but I did try to describe everything as much as possible. However, you may like to see what I was talking about.**

**You learn who Brielle's maker is in this chapter and a little bit of her past. **

**_I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thank you for everyone who encouraged me!_**

**Disclaimer: Anything that you can recognize is not mine!**

* * *

[Gabrielle Janiya Barrios]

I watch Jane as she sleeps, listening to her as she talks to whatever she is dreaming of. She went to bed several hours ago with questions I couldn't bring myself to answer.

I stand near her door, watching her, as I try to think of how to tell her of my past demons, things about myself I probably should have told her a long time ago. Godric is one vampire that I never wanted her to meet. A prime example of what Reverend Theodore Newlin makes vampires out to be: vicious, blood-thirsty, and evil.

I feel my body getting tired in a way that tells me the dawn will soon be here. I let out an unnecessary sigh as I walk to the edge of her bed and sit down.

With one small nudge, I say softly, "Jane-darling, wake up."

She groaned and tossed over to face me, still sound asleep.

"Jane," I sing lightly, brushing her long blonde bangs from her face, "Wake-y wake-y, I need to be downstairs before sun light."

Jane slowly opens her eyes, looking up at me, blinking a few times to wake herself up. She plops her head back down, face first into her pillow, her voice sounding muffled, "Five more minutes?"

"Sit up," I whisper firmly.

She looks up at me, confusion appearing on her face. She sits up, yawning, as I shift my body slightly toward her.

"Mom?" she pushes her hair behind her ears.

"I want you to promise me something," I begin.

"Promise what?" she asks, worry creeping into her voice.

I look at her, my precious little girl. It hasn't been that long since I saved her and watched as she grew into a strong, crazy young girl. She's young but almost adult by human standards. In a flash, I could see her body, bloody and broken, lying in the corner, and Godric, Eric, and Nora covered in Jane's blood. Nora is laughing maniacally, Eric turning to Nora and kissing her, forcing her to the wall, and Godric, the devil incarnate, telling me how it's my fault.

I have to protect Jane.

I look her straight in the eyes, "You must promise to stay away from Godric."

"Why?" Jane asks me, her eyes slightly wider as she tilts her head, "He didn't seem so bad to me."

"I don't care if he didn't _seem_ bad. He is dangerous," I snap lightly, trying to contain my fear and anger. This is one of the moments that I wish so badly she could feel what I feel as she does to every human.

"All vampires are dangerous, Mom. Godric didn't even glamour-"

I cut her off, "He has had over two millennia to perfect his skills at deception, to make himself_ seem_ harmless!" I stop myself and look away from her emerald gaze, trying to calm down, "Darling, that vampire and his progenies are monsters! If I told you half of the shit they put me through, the heinous acts of violence they committed-"

"Then tell me, mother. How can you expect me to stay away from him when you won't tell me anything?" Jane says forcefully.

I snap my head toward her, my hands clenching my knees, "I don't have to give you a reason. I am _your mother_!"

Jane threw off her blanket and swung her legs off of the bed. She stood up and flicked the light on, beginning to go through her closet for clothes, "Well, if you don't have a reason, I will just find a way to seek out his company."

I slowly stand up, my dead heart clenching at her words. I don't want to hear her say that. I cannot give her a reason without breaking down whatever structure I have built in my mind to keep the pain at bay. She turns around toward me as she angrily shoves her legs into her pants and pulls them up. She looks at me, and I stare back. I rein in my emotions; I am a vampire. There is no sense in feeling like this.

"I will give you more than a _good reason_ to stay away from him. C'mon, let's go sit," I speak low, but my voice is still tight with emotions I am trying to hold back.

I walk to the kitchen and take my last blood lollipop from the freezer. I also grab Jane a Sundrop from the six-pack she bought yesterday. By the time I sit down, Jane drags herself into the kitchen and sits down across from me.

I keep my eyes on my hands, feeling incredibly human for getting so worked up over telling my daughter about my horrible past, a past that still haunts me, even to this day. This is a conversation I never intended to tell anyone.

I finally break the silence, my voice sounding distant, even with my vampire hearing, "When I first met Nora, I was married to Prince Killian. He was next in line for the crown-"

"_You were married to a prince_?" Jane gasps, sounding surprised.

I chuckle slightly, looking up at Jane, "Yes, I suppose I was, but it came at a price."

Jane's eyebrows furrow as she looks at me with concern.

I speak before she can ask; there is only one story that is important today, "But that isn't part of this story. That is one of betrayal, heartbreak, and of a naïve little peasant girl turned into royalty. This is a tale of horror, pain, and loss. This is the tale of my death and birth."

She looks at me, unsure. Or maybe it was me who was unsure now. I force myself to continue, feeling as though my emotions were building up behind the dam in my mind, pushing to break it down- to break me down, "We were traveling to Wicklow, my hometown in Ireland. I was to visit my parents and personally invite them to my husband's coronation. I also wanted my children to see where I came from, to realize they are truly lucky. It was the third day of a four day journey by horse and buggy. We stopped and spent the night in a hotel. It was nearly dinner and my servants were to bring us food and whatever else we required. I was just about to get in the bath with Riley, my youngest child, when _she _showed up with them. I thought they were just common criminals... Then, I saw their fangs. They weren't even _human_! ..."

_I stared at woman in front of me in shock and anger. My eye scanned her as I reached for my son's hand. Her dark brown hair was long and wavy, the ends wet, dripping blood. The dress she wore was a fancy, forest green, and she was rather beautiful in spite of being covered in blood._

"_Who are you?" I demanded._

_She giggled, her smile growing wider, "Whoever you want me to be, my lady."_

"_I asked you a question, who are you," I snapped angrily._

"_Forgive me, I seem to have forgotten my manners," she smiled and gave a deep courtesy, "My name is Nora Gainesborough."_

_She rolled her r's in an accent that was clearly not Irish._

_I glared at her and pushed my three sons behind me, snarling at her, "You do not mock me. You will be punished for your insolence, guards! Guards!"_

_I waited for a response, my heart pounding in my chest as I backed my kids and myself to the wall. The woman started laughing, her entire body shaking with euphoria. I stared at her, dread filling me as I look at the blood on her clothes._

"_Your _guards_, if you can even call them that, are no more," Nora finally said._

_I immediately pushed my boys back toward the bathroom, turning around and ushering them toward it when Nora appeared in front of us. I jumped in front of my children, looking up at her as her lips curl into a feral grin._

"_Where do you think you are going, Princess Gabrielle?" she asked, tilting her head._

_But my mind didn't comprehend what she was saying. It was stuck where my eyes were- on her long fangs._

_Unadulterated terror swept over me; however, I covered it with anger. I heard a faint whimper coming from behind me, and I reached back behind me to take one of my children's hands but only grasped the empty air. I stiffly backed up a little, waving my hands behind me but I don't feel them. I spun around wildly, looking for my babies. Keith and Brandon were standing close together, a few feet behind me. Riley was standing in between them, clutching to Brandon's leg, whimpering._

"_Keith…" I lose my ability to speak as my eyes focus on the two men behind my children, eyeing them like candy, bearing fangs identical to Nora's._

"_Well, look at what we have here," the taller of the two bent down behind them, his voice filled with amusement, "Miniature humans."_

_The shorter of the two demons smiled, "Yes. How very thoughtful of her to bring us snacks."_

_I leapt forward to pull my children close to me and away from these demons when I felt a tight grip on my upper arms, yanking me back. I cried out in panic as the two men grabbed my two oldest sons while Riley stumbled to the ground and began to wail._

"_No!" I scream out, begging as hot tears sting my eyes, "No, please! Leave them alone!"_

_I was pushed forward and forced to the bed by Nora, and she pressed her body to the right side of mine, a tight grip on my shoulder and her leg intertwining with my right leg._

"_Shhh, now," she whispered in my ear as she began to stroke my hair, brushing it out of my face, "There's no reason to cry."_

"_Please, don't hurt them," I whisper as my crying turns into uncontrollable sobs._

_I stare at my children, afraid to even blink as the younger demon lines Keith and Brandon up against the wall._

_The taller one leisurely walks over to my hysterical Riley and scooped him up, an unnatural smile creeping on to his face, "Mmmm, if there's anything better than virgin blood bag, it's a baby blood bag."_

_Nora turned her head to the tall blonde, "Eric, save me some!"_

_Eric looked away from Riley and at the two of us, "Of course, lover."_

"**_No_**_!" I scream and try to get up, but Nora shoves me back down with such force that it pushes the air out of my lungs, and I choke a little, "No! No, don't you touch him! Stop it! Let me go!"_

"_Now, hush, Princess," Nora caresses my face, purring in my ear, "We won't just touch him. We'll eat them all!"_

_Eric chuckled as I started to thrash, hitting Nora, trying to get to my children, my babies, "No! No! Stop! Anything! I'll give you anything you want! Money! Do you want money?! Just don't hurt my babies!"_

_Nora's grip on me was incredibly strong, I couldn't even lift up and hitting her didn't seem to faze her at all. I cried harder, my whole body wracked with my sobbing, "Please…"_

"_Alright, we won't kill them all," the shortest demon said, his lips slowly curling up into a smile._

_A small relief filled me, they wouldn't kill my sons._

_Nora's head snapped toward him as Eric slowly looked up, "Godric?"_

"_We will only kill one of them," Godric continued, his brown eyes boring into my jade ones as my heart plummeted, "As long as you choose the one to die."_

_Eric smirked and Nora started giggling again._

"_What? No. No!" I shout, thrashing again, pain clenching my heart tight, "No!"_

_Nora loosens up enough for me to lift up._

"_Then, they all shall die," Godric said, his boyish smile dropping to a look of indifference, "It's your choice."_

"_You would let them all die when you can save two?" Eric said with a cruel smile, walking toward the bed._

"_No!" I start to scream, tears running down my face, feeling utterly helpless as Nora shoves me back onto the bed._

"_You could save two of them," she whispered in my ear, sounding concerned, "Just tell us… Who is your favorite child?"_

_'How could I ever choose?'_

_I shook my head and gritted my teeth, looking at my sons, my baby boys._

"_No answer?" Godric asked, looking at me, "Fine. Eric?" _

_Eric tilted Riley's head, exposing his three-year-old neck, poised to take a large bite out of him._

"_No!" I cry out hysterically, "Keith!"_

_They all stop, looking at me. Eric's lips curl into a smile. I feel my whole being give up, "I choose Keith."_

_A feeling of total despair grew throughout my body as my oldest child looked up at me, a look of fear, confusion, and betrayal in his eyes, "Mommy?"_

_"Typical," Eric sneers._

_Before I could even blink, Riley was on the bed, and Nora was off of me. I looked down to where Keith and Brandon were. Brandon was in the corner, now, crying and looking terrified as the three demons surrounded my eldest child._

_Keith let out a blood curling scream as they bit into him, and I lay there feeling utterly broken. _

'_What have I done?' _

_He never stops screaming._

"Nora kept me for a week and a half, torturing and raping me," I tell Jane, my voice is thick with pain, my Irish accent heavy as I tell the story that will haunt me until I meet my true death, "and for some god forsaken reason, she changed me. Killing my child and abusing me weren't enough for her. She had to damn me, too."

* * *

[Jane Ava Doe]

Blood tears run down Brielle's pale cheeks as she finishes; the tears finding their way down to her chin and dripping onto the marble counter. Her jade eyes are on me, but they are glazed over with pain from her memory. My heart feels as though someone has repeatedly stomped on it. I ache for her loss.

She is immobile, not even pretending to breathe as she usually does to appear normal. Brielle rises from her seat and blinks, looking at me.

"I must go to ground, Jane," her voice is still heavily accented; the way she sounds when she's livid, except now it is filled with hurt.

She even forgot to call me darling.

I sit there as the sun begins to peek at me through the window, my stomach in tight knots over what Brielle has kept from me. I look at the door she left through and then at the small puddle of blood that escaped her undead body, trying to imagine what it must be like to live with such trauma.

I start to move, getting ready for school as I try to imagine Godric as the vicious killer from Brielle's past. Nora, Eric, and Godric. I've only ever met Nora once, a few years ago, and she had sneered at me, a feeble human. Then, she had berated Brielle for her humane tendencies. Nora had scared me.

I could see Nora, her dark hair, predatory attire, and the ruthless curve of her smile, as she tortures someone. I try not to think of Brielle being that someone; it hurts to even consider that. I place Godric beside her in my mind, going back to attack that cashier after I left.

_No witnesses,_ I shiver at the thought.

I'm about to leave when I see the puddle of crimson on the kitchen table. I clean it up before I go, not wanting Brielle to see it tonight and remember again.

There's been enough remembering for today.

* * *

I spend the rest of the week merging Godric with the demon of Brielle's past. He is evil. I keep wondering why he seemed so… normal the other night. In the end, I just ignore any thought of him. Best to let well enough alone.

I place The Selection down on the bedside table as Mr. Reynold lets out a loud snore. I'm saved from making promises of marriage tonight. I turn out the light and leave the room.

Mrs. Brown is fidgeting in her wheel chair right outside the door.

"Hello," I say loudly, "What are you doing all the way down here?"

She looks up at me startled, one hand on her wheel and the other shaking uncontrollably in her lap. She's rocking herself slightly, a sign that her mind is withering away.

"I need to go home," she says quickly, "It's almost time for dinner."

I put her legs up in their holsters and begin to wheel her back to her room.

"You're right," I tell her, "It is almost time for dinner, but don't worry. You don't have to cook tonight."

"I don't? I always cook," Mrs. Brown tells me.

I push her into her room and up to her bed, "You don't cook tonight, Mrs. Brown. Remember? We cook for you since you've cooked so much."

She looks up at me, her other hand joining in with the jerky shaking.

"Now, why don't you wait right here, and I will make sure you are brought food really soon," I tell her.

She doesn't say anything, and I suppose she might be trying to remember when she stopped cooking for her family. I leave before she comes to her senses.

"Good afternoon," I knock on the open door of Mrs. Regenski's room.

She looks up at me with a wide smile, "Oh! Hello, dearest!"

I sit in a chair beside her bed as she finishes getting something out of her bedside desk.

"What are you doing?" I ask her with a smile.

"Oh! Well, I was just thinking that I might write my nephew a letter," she tells me as she puts a few sheets of paper on her rolling desk and gets on her bed, "But I don't have a pen."

She frowns as though this is only a minor inconvenience, which she will soon solve.

"I could get you a pen," I tell her.

* * *

I'm putting away Brielle's blood when my phone starts ringing. I flip it open as I shut the fridge. It's a text from Raven.

**U wanna go to meadows w/ me tonight?**

I shrug and reply to her: **Sure. Sonic, too?**

A few minutes later, my phone goes off again: **Cya at 6.**

* * *

Raven slowly strokes the metal rods of the giant, steel head that sits right outside the Meadows Museum. (Both of these are real! Meadows Museum and the giant head! :) Take out the spaces - smu . edu / meadows museum / collections _ acquisitions _ Plensa . htm)

"This is amazing," she exclaims in a sing-song voice.

"Definitely," I agree, reaching out my hand to touch the enormous piece of art.

A prude-ish sounding voice causes Raven and me to jump, "Please do not touch the artwork."

Raven throws up her hands in an exaggerated gesture and steps back, "Well, sorry."

I step back with her and give the woman, whose name is 'Gina' according to her name tag, an impish grin, "Sorry. We won't do it again."

Gina stares at us hard for a moment, and then, she returns to a group of people and starts to speak to them. She must be a tour guide.

Raven looks at me and purposely reaches out to stroke the sculpture, "What crawled up her ass and died?"

We spend a few minutes reading a plague about the piece, which we learn is actually called _Sho_, but Raven dubbed, 'Godzilla Head.' After that, we head inside to explore the Spanish artwork. They show everything from paintings to mash-up pieces.

We stop at a tall, black piece created by Antoni Tàpies called _The Great Black Relief_. A u-shaped form sticks out of the material painting, as though a rope or something similar was being pushed through. (Also real! =] take out the spaces - smu . edu / meadowsmuseum / collections _ Tapies . htm)

"The Great Black Relief?" I read the name off, "By Antoni, uh, something. I don't know how to pronounce the last name."

"Now, see," Raven says knowingly, wagging her finger at me, "This is actually an abstract representation of a toilet, but it's only for black people. Also, it's only used when we need to poop. Hence, 'The Great Black Relief.'"

By time she was finished with her little history lesson, I was barely able to contain my laughter at an acceptable level for a museum, "You only get to say stuff like that because you are black. If I was saying it, you'd be filing some bogus charge against me for being racist."

She smiles at me, looking rather pleased with herself, "I just thought I would share part of the ancient black culture with you."

I shake my head at her fabled history and nudge her, "C'mon, let's keep looking."

After passing a few odd sculptures and a painting that looked like someone just vomited on it, Raven jumps in front of a painting called _Corral de Locos_ and mimics a man whipping two naked men.

"I hate naked people!" she says in a low, masculine voice, causing me to immediately crack up, "No visible penises allowed."

She whips her hand forward and makes a 'whe-cha' sound.

I laugh at her and push her around the corner to another painting.

It's of a lady with blonde, puffy rug-hair. Her cheeks were heavily flushed, and she looked rather serious. (Again, this is real - smu . edu / meadowsmuseum / collections _ Queen . htm)

I turn to Raven and start fluffing my hair up. Taking on a snobby voice, I ask, "Does this hair make me look fat?"

Raven grins and bows dramatically to me, "No, your majesty. Would you like some tea?"

"This is Spanish artwork not British," I say, dropping my act. I turn around to look at the woman in the painting, "What do you think really made her hair look like that?"

Raven shrugs, "She needed a straightener. She looks like me after my hair dries when I get out of the shower, and that's saying something. I have an afro until I straighten it."

"Maybe that's what happened," I say seriously, "She  
fried her hair from all of that straightening!"

"What?" Raven says a little incredulously at the painting and then looks for the date, "That was back in _1656_! What'd she do? Take two hot rocks and straighten it with that?"

I grin a little, feeling silly for not thinking about how long ago this was painted, "I don't know. It was just an idea! Don't mock me!"

"Actually, Queen Mariana was wearing a wig in this piece."

The voice instantly sobers me; I may have only heard it speak a few words, but I would know it anywhere.

Godric.

* * *

**Ha. I'm mean. I only gave you a tiny bit of Godric. On a happier note, Godric will definitely play a bigger part in the next chapter. :)**

**For anyone who likes Brielle's character a lot and enjoys Eric X OC, my very good friend who created Brielle will be posting her own fanfiction after this story is finished. Her account name is The Amazing Ashley.**

******Good/bad? Comments? **


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